Saying That
by breatheactsing123
Summary: A multichapter about illness. Set in season five. Review to let me know if I should continue!
1. Chapter 1

Most Saturday mornings, Jim woke up to the scent of bacon and coffee wafting through the apartment he shared with Pam, but not this Saturday. She'd barely left the bed since Wednesday due to some sort of killer migraine, and he was starting to get concerned. Pam had insisted she didn't need a doctor, but she would insist that from her deathbed. Knowing this, Jim had scheduled a doctor's appointment earlier in the week. He just hadn't told her yet.

"How're you feeling, babe?" Jim asked, brushing his teeth. Pam only moaned in response. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Come on, get up, we're going to the doctor," Jim said, hoping that if he didn't say it like it was a big deal, she wouldn't overreact.

"Jim," She groaned, only able to sit up for a second before collapsing back onto the bed.

"Come on, Beesly, the appointment's already made," Jim told her, sitting on the edge of the bed. She was going to the doctor, this wasn't up for discussion. He went to their dresser and pulled out an outfit for her, tossing it onto the bed.

"These don't match," she told him, the sickness in her voice making everything sound like a whine. Or maybe she was just whining. Jim tossed her a different pair of pants.

"Do you want breakfast?" He asked.

"No," she shook her head as she peeled her pajama bottoms off.

"Have you been eating all week while I've been gone?"

"Jim, I've been sick." Pam pointed out, not wanting to have the discussion she knew was coming.

"Pam, you've got to eat-"

"To keep my strength up." Pam finished his sentence with a hint of mocking in her tone. She always lost her appetite when ill, and this wasn't the first time she'd received that lecture from Jim.

"You finish getting ready, I'll make breakfast." He offered.

"I'm not hungry!" she called after him as he shut the door, but she knew it was worthless. The lengths Jim would go to to make her feel better when she was sick were seemingly endless. She let the cool water of the shower rinse the sweat and germs off of her before changing into the clothes Jim had selected. By the time she met him in the kitchen, there wasn't enough time for her to eat breakfast, and she smirked to herself. Maybe she was going to have to go to the doctors, but she wasn't going to upset her stomach on the way there. They got in just as the nurse called Pam's name and led them to their examination room. Jim held Pam's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of her palm.

"I wish the lights in here weren't so bright." She said.

"Sorry babe. Hopefully we'll be out quick."

The male doctor on call then came in, recognizing Pam as the patient.

"So, just a bad migraine, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah," they both answered.

"How long?" He asked.

"Since Wednesday."

"Hm... Any other symptoms?"

"Fever and loss of appetite," Jim answered for Pam.

"Any blood in your urine?"

"Well, I assumed it was my period, but yes." Pam said. She was on the pill, but had still dismissed it.

"Well, we'll take a urine sample and an MRI and then we'll go from there. May I feel your abdomen?"

Pam knew that the doctor was only asking for medical reasons, and braced herself for the doctor's touch, but Jim had other plans.

"Maybe just the urine sample and the MRI will be enough," he said, moving to stand in front of Pam.

"But maybe it won't." The doctor said. "Please, this will only take a moment."

Although begrudgingly, Jim stepped aside, and the examination was brief, as promised. Jim Halpert wasn't a very good poker player, but he could tell when someone was hiding something, and this doctor had something brewing behind his eyes. When Pam left the room for her urinalysis, he stopped the doctor.

"So, what does it look like?" Jim asked casually, not wanting to let on how nervous he was.

"Time will tell, Mr. Halpert."

Jim bit his lip. "Listen, Pam is my fiance, and if there's something wrong, I need to know."

"You'll know just as soon as we know, Mr. Halpert." the doctor said before leaving the room to prep the MRI.

Jim rolled his eyes, angry and dissatisfied with the evasive answers. And why did the doctor insist on calling him "Mr. Halpert?" Before he could stew anymore, Pam walked back into the room.

"Hey, sweetheart. How're you feeling?" Jim asked gently, uncrossing his legs and inviting Pam to perch herself in his lap.

"Better," she answered, wrapping her arms around Jim and embracing him, hiding her face in his chest, her body language clearly displaying her discomfort.

"I know, sweetheart. We'll be in and out quick."

"You don't know that," she pointed out, though it was more in jest than bitterness.

"You're right, I don't. I was just saying it to make you feel better."

Smiling a bit, she kissed his lips sleepily. Jim smiled as well. When they hadn't known what was making Pam ill, they'd refrained from getting too close to each other, neither party wanting Jim infected as well. The doctor hadn't said anything about a virus, so Pam decided the coast was clear. Jim was too busy kissing her to disagree. They broke apart just in time for a nurse to come to lead them to Pam's MRI room. Jim held her hand as long as he could, and they were both physically pained when he couldn't go any further, but the exam was quick, and they were now left waiting for the results. Jim was more anxious than Pam, though Pam expected this. He could be shot and he'd still ask if she was okay first. She had to place her hand on his leg to keep it from shaking.

"Jim, calm down. They're going to give me a prescription for some antibiotics and I'm going to be fine in three days."

"You don't know that." Jim said, his head in his hands.

"You're right, I don't. I was just saying it to make you feel better. She said cheekily, quoting him from earlier. Jim smirked.

"It shouldn't be allowed to be this cute when you're sick."

"Well I'm glad my personality is making up for my appearance."

"Oh, shush, you."

"I didn't even put on makeup."

"Well, you're sick."

"But still."

" ?" The doctor called. Once spotting them, he opened his door. "Come have a seat in my office."


	2. Chapter 2

Jim already didn't like this. He squeezed Pam's hand as they sat in the leather chairs, not daring to look at her for fear that he'd break.

"Well, I'd like the two of you to know that Ms. Beesly has a cancer with a very high remission rate."

Now he had to look at her. She was white as a sheet from the shock, but not crying. He squeezed her hand tighter. If she wasn't going to break, neither would he.

"She has kidney cancer, and we saw her soon enough that it hasn't yet metastasized to any of her blood or other organs."

"What exactly is the remission rate?" Pam asked, her voice stolid.

"79 percent." He answered.

Pam looked at Jim, and he knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking it too.

"_There's a 21% chance that we aren't going to grow old together."_

Jim shook his head slightly, as if to say "Don't think like that," and then turned back to the doctor. The doctor would make everything better.

"There's a packet outlining the different treatment options here," the doctor explained, handing them a manilla folder. "Go home, look them over, call whomever you need to call, and we'll meet tomorrow afternoon to talk treatment. You're in good hands, Ms. Beesly."

"Thank you, doctor." Jim said, knowing Pam was too overwhelmed to get any words out.

He helped Pam up and they walked to the car in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts, though they were physically wrapped in each other's arms, Pam's on Jim's back, and Jim's around Pam's waist. As soon as they got into the car, Jim looked over at her.

"Pam, baby, please say something. You're going to be fine."

"You don't know that. You're just saying that to make me feel better." There was no joke in her tone this time.

"No, Pam. I do know that. For one, statistics are on our side. You're in your prime, Pam, you're 26 years old. You can fight this, I know you can."

"But Jim, what if-"

"Pam, sweetheart, we could play "What if" all day. Don't do that to yourself. Let's go home, call your parents, and then look through the treatment options. Everything's going to be alright." Jim so badly wanted to believe what he was saying.

Pam looked at Jim for a moment, and then suddenly leaned forward to kiss his face long and hard. She clung to him like a child in a storm.

"Shh, babe, it's okay," Jim whispered, stroking her back. He felt a few warm tears on his sweater and kissed the crown of her head, letting a few tears spill over himself. After a few moments, he pulled away to look into Pam's eyes. "You ready to go home?" he asked, blinking the tears out of his eyes so he'd be able to see the road. She nodded.

Jim held her hand the whole ride home, and she squeezed it the same way she used to squeeze her father's hand when she had to get a flu shot. The second the two got out of the car they were in each other's arms.

"I'm sorry I didn't do this in the doctor's office," Jim whispered into her lilac-scented locks.

"Me too," she agreed. They stayed in their driveway embracing, neither wanting to be the first to let go. Pam knew the neighbors were probably wondering why that crazy young couple who just moved in were sitting in their driveway hugging, but how could she be expected to let go? How could she calmly proceed into her home like she did any other day after the news she just received? How could life go on as normal? While she was in the middle of this thought process, Jim picked her up wordlessly, bringing them both into the house and sitting on the couch, Pam in Jim's lap. They sat for a few moments before anyone said anything.

"Do you want to call your parents first, or do you want to look through the treatments first?"

"Let's call my parents. I want to talk to my parents," Pam said quietly.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jim said, rubbing her back as she sat up. Pam pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed her mother's number.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you?" Helene answered the phone.

"_Dying,"_ Pam thought. "Momma? Can we talk for a minute, or are you busy?"

"Baby, are you okay? Why do you sound like you've been crying?"

"Did that Halpert kid leave you? Never liked him. You could do better." Pam's father chimed in. Apparently she'd been on speaker.

"Right here, Mr. Beesly." Jim said gruffly.

"Didn't mean that." He said.

"Pam, baby, what's wrong?" Helene asked again.

"Momma, I have cancer." Pam admitted, somehow holding back the sobs that Jim could see waiting to burst from her lungs.

"Pam, baby, what do you mean? That's not funny."

"Mrs. Beesly, Pam has a highly curable cancer, and a 79% chance of remission. We only just found out today." Jim spoke for Pam, as he could tell she wouldn't be able to get any words out anymore, though he struggled himself.

"Oh, my word." Mrs. Beesly said, but like Pam, she would put up a strong front for as long as possible. "Sweetheart, you're going to make it through this. The odds are stacked in our favor. Your father and I will be there as soon as possible, okay?"

"Okay," Pam managed to get out.

"You and Jim need to talk about how you're going to get better, and your father and I need to figure out how to get to you. I love you, alright?"

"I love you too, Mom."

"I love you babygirl," said.

"Love you, daddy."

She hung up the phone and collapsed into Jim's chest, taking deep, sobbing breaths, though she wasn't crying.

"I know, love. I know." Jim said, allowing her to cry and stroking her back. Once she calmed down, Jim pulled the packet of treatment options out of the manilla folder. The plethora of treatments seemed intimidating, but eventually, through a lot of tears, the couple decided that the best way to remove the cancer was to remove the kidney entirely. It was only five when they'd made their decision, but they both promptly fell asleep on the couch, the events of the day having thoroughly exhausted them.


	3. Chapter 3

Pam stirred in the middle of the night, her thrashing waking Jim, who was still asleep beneath her on the couch.

"Come on, Beesly." Jim said tiredly, thinking she just wanted to get up and head to their bedroom. Once she began to shake, it became clear to Jim that this was more serious than he'd thought. "Pam, Pam. Sweetheart, wake up." Jim said, squeezing the sides of Pam's arms gently.

She woke up with a gasp, the first thing she saw being Jim's hazel eyes, their tired glaze juxtaposing the fear in hers. She relaxed her muscles, falling back into Jim, who wrapped his arms around his now crying fiance, his eyes adopting the glint of fear for her. He didn't have to ask what the nightmare was about, and worst of all, she woke up to find it real.

"Shh, Pam. It was just a dream. You're fine."

"No it wasn't! If it was a dream, I wouldn't be sick when I woke up!" She lashed out, not even able to say "cancer" due to fear.

"Pam." Jim said firmly. "This is hard for me, too."

"Really? Because the last time I checked, your life wasn't in danger!" Pam said, more angry now.

"Maybe not, but do you think I want to spend a single day on this Earth if you're not here too?" Jim asked, raising his voice, though he hadn't intended to.

Pam realized now that she hadn't considered that Jim was struggling with her illness just as much as she was.

"Jim," She said softly, placing a hand lightly on his cheek. "We'll make it through this."

Jim smiled. Finally, finally, Pam had given some sort of acknowledgement to fighting this.

"There's my girl. Pam Beesly don't stop for no damn kidney cancer." Jim responded.

"You're such a dork," Pam giggled.

"Hey, you're the one that fell in love with me."

"How lucky am I," Pam noticed, kissing him lightly. "Get back to sleep, dork."

"Let's." Jim said, standing up and carrying them both to the bedroom.

* * *

The next morning, Jim woke up with Pam curled into his chest, her chin resting on his shoulder. He smiled. Things were normal, at least for right now. Things would be back to normal soon. Pam stirred, opening her eyes halfway to talk to Jim.

"D'you want breakfast?" She asked groggily.

Jim chuckled. He knew Pam, and when things went wrong for Pam, she liked to keep things as normal as possible. Cooking breakfast was a coping mechanism. "Sure," he responded, kissing her nose briefly. She started to roll out of bed, but he stopped her.

"What?" she asked, a little exasperated, but smiling.

"Don't go yet," he asked, reaching his arms out to her like a child wanting to be picked up by his mother.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm just making breakfast," She chastised, though he could tell she didn't really mean it.

He threw his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest, her rear to his front, and he moved his head to whisper into her ear.

"Breakfast can wait."

"I guess so," she smirked.

And for a few seconds, Pam had forgotten that after breakfast, she would shower and get dressed to go to the hospital. For a moment, Pam forgot that she had cancer. But just as quick as the knowledge was gone, it flitted back into her mind, and Jim felt her body physically crumple with the gravity of this knowledge hitting her full-force.

"Pam, what's wrong?" Jim asked, concerned.

"Nothing, nothing." She insisted, wriggling her way out of his grasp. "I just… really need to make breakfast," she said, swinging the bedroom door shut as she went to the kitchen.

Jim rolled out of bed quickly, going after her. "Come on, Pam. Don't do this!" Jim begged as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Do what? You're the one who wanted breakfast," Pam said, trying to act innocent, but the hint of fear in her tone was giving her away.

"You know what, Beesly. Please don't shut me out like this."

"Jim, I don't know what you're talking about. Can you just throw some bacon in a pan please?" She asked as she stirred the pancake batter furiously.

"Yes you do, Pam! Please don't change the subject. Talk to me!"

"There's nothing to talk about." Pam said more quietly.

"I'm scared, too, you know."

Pam dropped the whisk into the bowl. She was so scared that she kept forgetting that she had Jim to go through this with her. Pam nodded.

"It's scary stuff," she agreed. "I'm sorry I keep doing this to you."

"You've got to remember that when I proposed, I meant that I was in it for the long haul, Beesly."

"It's not that I didn't think you were, I just don't think either of us were expecting _this_ in the long haul."

"Well, in sickness and in health, right?"

"Touche, but we aren't married yet either."

"We're as good as married." Jim shrugged.

Pam smiled to herself. He was a keeper. For better or for worse.


	4. Chapter 4

Just as Jim and Pam finished breakfast, Bill and Helene Beesley arrived, just stopping in to say hello before checking into their hotel room. Jim had talked with Bill and Helene, and they all decided that it would be best if Jim took her to the hospital without them. Bill and Helene had been fighting, and the stress was too much for Pam in this state.

"Pam, sweetheart, did you pack a bag, or do you want me to?" Jim asked. She'd likely have to stay in the hospital for a while after her surgery, and though Pam had insisted she didn't need him to, Jim had packed a bag for himself the night before. He was not leaving his fiance in a hospital.

"Um… I can take care of it," She answered softly, knowing that packing the bag would make the trip all too real.

"You sure? I can handle it."

"So can I," she said, bravely pasting a smile on her face before kissing Jim's temple and retreating to their bedroom. When the first drop of water rolled from her eye and on to a t-shirt she was putting into her duffel, she pulled herself away from the packing, going back to the kitchen, where Jim was sitting, immersed in paperwork.

"You alright, Beesly?" Jim asked, seeing the redness in her eyes.

"Maybe I can't handle it as well as I thought I could."

"Hey, hey, hey. That's okay." Jim said, moving to wrap his arms around the woman who needed him most, the woman he loved most of all. "Why don't you have a cup of tea and I'll finish packing." Jim kissed the crown of his fiance's head. "Does that sound okay?" Jim asked.

"Um.. no." Pam shook her head, wrapping her arms around Jim's back. "I think I just want to stay like this for a little bit," she sniffled.

Jim took a deep breath. "Absolutely," he let out a small smile, wrapping his arms around her.

After a moment, she broke the hug. "I'm going to make tea now. D'you want a cup?"

"Sure," he told her, kissing her again before moving to finish her packing. He wasn't much of a tea drinker, but he knew it would make Pam feel better to do something for him. He shed a few tears of his own while packing Pam's bag, not daring to dwell on the thoughts that crossed through his mind as he put each item in the duffle. After taking a minute to wash his face and regain himself in their bathroom, he brought the packed bags out to the kitchen, where Pam slid him a mug of vanilla tea.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Thank _you," _he smiled, taking the tea and leaning over the counter to kiss her temple. They sipped at their mugs in silence, checking the clocks every few seconds until it was time to go. As if on cue, both Jim and Pam inhaled deeply.

"You ready, Bees?" Jim asked, looking intently at Pam.

"You're going to be with me, right?"

"Of course," Jim said, shocked that she would even fathom that he would leave her like this.

"Then I'm ready for anything." She said, squeezing his hand before they exited the apartment.

* * *

Once Pam and Jim were checked in at the hospital, it seemed like everything was just an extremely stressful version of the waiting game. A version of the waiting game where the stakes were life or death. Jim squeezed Pam's hand as she lay in a hospital bed and he sat next to her in a chair. For a while, neither of them spoke.

"Do you know how long the surgery's going to take?" Pam asked out of the blue.

"No, but I promise to be there once you wake up."

"Jim, you don't really have to stay. I could be out for hours."

"You think I'd be able to do anything anywhere else? Pam, there's nowhere I'd rather be than by your side, always."

Pam squeezed Jim's hand again and they were quiet for a few moments before a nurse walked in, preparing to wheel Pam out.

"Okay, , there's nothing to worry about. This is a routine operation and you should be out by this time next week at the latest."

Jim looked at Pam reassuringly, but neither of them was particularly convinced. They both wanted to believe it, but they couldn't yet. Jim continued to hold Pam's hand as they sat outside the operating room, anesthesiologists and nurses poking at her with various needles.

"Alright, , I'm going to put in the general anesthesia now."

She sat up quickly, trying to keep the fear out of her eyes as she looked at Jim.

"I love you, Jim. I love you so, so much." She told him, extending her arms to lay her hands on his cheeks.

"Hey, don't do that, Pam. I love you too much to let you do that." Jim said nervously, standing to look at her better. "_Don't give up on me!" _he wanted to scream.

"I love you," She said again.

He leaned in close to kiss her, still holding her hand. "I love you, too. I'll see you soon." Her hand went limp in his, and Jim felt a paralyzing chill pass through him before he remembered that this was just the anesthesia. He stood up. preparing to walk into the operating room as Pam was rolled in, but was promptly stopped by a student nurse.

"Sir, you can't go through here."

"But that's my fiance," Jim pleaded.

"I'm sorry sir, but you aren't necessary medical personnel. We can't crowd the surgeon. She's in good hands."

"What am I supposed to do then?" Jim asked, trying not to project his emotions on the nurse.

"We'll call you when the surgery is over." She told him. "It will be a couple hours."

Sighing, Jim walked out of the hospital, willing the minutes to pass faster until the phone rang.


	5. Chapter 5

After walking around the hospital for a bit, Jim ended up planting himself on a bench in a secluded corridor, sitting with his arms around his neck and his head between his knees, his legs shaking more than he'd care to admit. He knew it was dumb to just sit and wait, and he was driving himself crazy, but he highly doubted that going home would make it any better. He noticed that his mouth and throat were dry, and ambled around in pursuit of a vending machine, not really paying attention to where his lanky legs were taking him. As he turned a corner, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Sighing, he pulled his blackberry out and stared at the screen, blinking a few times to get his eyes to focus. He didn't recognize the number, but saw a Scranton area code, so he picked up the phone.

"Hello?" He said, the strain of the last few days evident in his voice.

"Is this James Halpert?" An unfamiliar female voice asked.

"Yes ma'am," He answered, confused.

"This is Nurse Christine from the Scranton Emergency Medical Care Operations Office. You're the emergency contact for Pamela Beesly, correct?"

"Yes," Jim asked, more urgent now.

"Sir, there's been a complication. How soon can you get here?"

"I'm still in the hospital," Jim said, booking it to the OR. The nurse, apparently, could hear this from her end.

"Okay, Sir. I'm going to ask you to calm down. I understand your elevated stress level, but the best thing you can do at this moment is remain calm."

Jim approached the nurses station, and saw the name tag that read "Christine." He nearly crashed into the wooden desk.

"I'm Jim Halpert," he said to the nurse, his phone now in his pocket.

"Okay, sir. The first thing I'm going to ask is that you take a few deep breaths, okay?" She asked in a voice that was far too calm. Jim complied, however. There was no use in arguing, and he needed to get to Pam. "Great," she smiled, as if she was coaching him. "Now, why don't you come with me and we'll talk somewhere more private." She instructed, cueing him to follow her.

"_But when do I get to see Pam?" _Jim wanted to yell. She needed him and he needed her, so why was he here? He followed the nurse into an empty office, letting her shut the door behind him.

"Alright, Mr. Halpert, you can take a seat." She said, motioning to a chair. He acquiesced. "The good news is, the kidney is out," The nurse began on a positive note, but Jim couldn't be bothered with that, not until Pam was 100% better. "However, as the doctors extracted the kidney, Pam began to bleed internally."

"So what does that mean?" Jim interjected.

"It means that blood isn't going where it should be going, and that there's blood in places where there shouldn't be. They're patching her up now, but we're not sure what's going on, and we won't know how she's going to fare until we figure that out."

"_How she's going to fare," _stuck out in Jim's mind. He knew it was just a fancy phrase for "whether she'll live or die," and he detested her for using it. "So that's it? We just don't know?" Jim asked, angry. They realized they were dealing with the life of his true love, right?

"We're working on it. Soon." The nurse answered, understanding his situation but wishing he could understand the difficult position she was in.

"_You don't know that." _Jim thought. "_You're just saying that to make me feel better." _And it sure as hell wasn't working.

"As soon as you're able to see her, we'll let you know. I'll give you some time," Christine said, then flitting out of the room. Pam's wasn't the only life that needed to be saved.

Jim sat in the chair still, his mind racing. He was too shocked to move, and didn't know what to do as it were. Should he call Pam's parents? Her condition was pretty ambiguous at the moment, should he worry them over something that could get better? He might have let his mind run like this for an hour when a nurse reentered.

"We're prepping an OR for emergency surgery. is still under anesthetic, but would you like to sit with her?" The nurse asked, the look in her eyes saying "_This might be your last chance." _

Jim nodded, standing up and following the nurse to a hospital room, where Pam lay connected to a labyrinth of wires, the beeping of the machines adding to the anschluss of noise coming from inside his own head. He rushed to her, gently grabbing her limp hand and stroking small circles over the back of his palm with her thumb. He knew she couldn't hear her, but he whispered in her ear anyway.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He said, suddenly regretting all the moments he could've said this, but didn't. He kissed her forehead. "My life started the moment that I met you," he whispered, realizing it now for the first time. Each word tumbled off his lips as quickly as it rushed to his brain. "Every moment since the first we spent together has been nothing short of wonderful. I love you. I love you. I will always, have always loved you." Before he could continue, Pam's bed was wheeled away, leaving him in the empty hospital room. He sat in a lounge chair, lost in thought. He could only wait, but what was he waiting for?


End file.
